Alexandriad: The Song of Fire
by SuperGoldenFroggie
Summary: The Spring-Time Familiar Summoning Ritual summons the being most suitable for the mage. A soul of fire summons forth a soul of fire. The right spark can cause anything to burn.  Fate/Zero Rider
1. Chapter 1

Zero no Tsukaima is the property of Noboru Yamaguchi and Media Factory.

Fate/Zero is the property of NitroPlus and TYPE-MOON.

I claim no ownership of the characters featured in this story. This is a work of fan-fiction.

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><p>Alexandriad: The Song of Fire<p>

Chapter One

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><p>Louise coughed to try and clear her lungs of the smoke that was the result of the explosion that signaled her summoning spell. The dark smoke was rapidly dissipating, no longer making her eyes tear, and she blinked her eyes hurriedly to clear her vision so she could look up at the no doubt strong, powerful, beautiful, and peerless being that she had summoned to be her perpetual companion and servant. And so she looked up.<p>

And up.

And up.

She tried not to feel too intimidated and felt herself failing miserably. Louise was naturally a very a short girl, but the bronze skinned man standing in the midst of the rapidly dissipating cloud of black smoke could only be described as HUGE. He towered even over Professor Colbert! And while the professor overseeing the summoning ritual was a lean and scholarly man, the giant who was staring down at her with an expression of intense concentration on his face was a mountain of muscles upon muscles. He was also wearing the strangest clothes Louise had ever seen. The giant's legs were covered by a long and wide leather kilt, with intricate golden designs adorning the bottom, while his feet were bound in leather sandals trimmed with a coarse fur. At his hip, he wore a strange short sword belted to his waist. In reality, the sword was only short compared to the mans stature, Louise realized. The blade was probably as long as she was tall! As the tiny girls eyes continued their upwards journey, she saw that his barrel like chest was covered by leather armor of a dark reddish color with golden highlights that seemed to emphasize every bulging muscle. At the ends of his brutally scarred arms he wore leather wrist guards, trimmed in a coarse fur in a similar fashion as the sandals at his feet. Across his shoulders he wore a long crimson cape with trimmings of fur that hugged the mans bull-like neck and intricately woven designs of flaming golden streamers that seemed to rise from the capes bottom towards the top. Finally reaching his face, Louise saw that it was square, brutish, and surrounded by a mane of wild red hair and a beard that made the man look like a blood soaked lion. However, despite his coarse features, she realized that the mans eyes shone with a keen intellect as he studied her almost as intently as she had him.

The gathered crowd of students just gaped at the giant with wide fearful eyes. They had expected the Valliere scion to fail miserably, perhaps summon something worthless and unremarkable like a butterfly, or maybe even something preposterous and humiliating like a commoner, but instead Louise the Zero had summoned something amazing! What was this strange swordsman whose shadow was nearly large enough to encompass the entire crowd? Was he a barbarian warlord from an uncharted land? Perhaps a half giant from the lands from beyond the north? An efreet from the Fire Dragon Mountains? Their increasingly wild guesses were brutally interrupted as the giant moved. In a single quick movement that belied his enormous frame, he knelt low and put his face right in front of Louise, and spoke in a voice that rumbled like an earthquake.

"So," the huge man said at Louise, sounding amused as the beginnings of a smile tugged at his lips, "you must be my Master, right?"

Louise, startled both at the mans speed and at suddenly being face to face with a man who could probably snap her like a twig with ease in one of those too huge hands, stuttered out a reply, "Y-y-yes! I s-s-ummoned! I mean, yes, Master! No! I mean, I am your Master! Louise Francoise La Blanc de La Valliere!" Low murmurs and chuckles started to make their way throughout the gathered crowd. Louise felt her cheeks grow hot and red as her embarrassment at her own stuttering reply increased. How dare this... this... this brute do that to her? Humiliating her like that in front of the class! A familiar was supposed to help their master, not embarrass them in front of their peers! The pink haired girls' hands trembled violently as she held her wand in a white knuckle grip and her classmates, having known her for a year already, quickly backed away, recognizing the tell-tale signs of Louise's explosive temper.

The giant, however, did not pay Louise's twitching eyebrows and strained grin any attention. Instead the read headed man nodded with a satisfied smile on his face at Louise's words. He spoke once more in a still jovial tone and said, "That completes our contract." Then, without any further warning, he lunged forward, scooped her up in one fluid motion and sat her on his right shoulder. Louise shrieked at the sudden displacement, her anger immediately forgotten and replaced by a growing... concern. Because Vallieres didn't get scared. They only got concerned. And Louise was very concerned right now. Not only for her dignity, but for her life as well. The man looked like he could wrestle Tabitha's dragon barehanded and win, and he was currently keeping her firmly balanced on his shoulder with one large hand around her waist. This sort of behavior was demeaning and completely unacceptable and thus Louise determined to chastise her brutish familiar immediately.

"H-h-hey!" she shouted (it came out more like a squeak) in the giant mans ears, "p-put me down at once! Familiar! I order you to put me down!"

The giant, again, ignored her and instead asked, "Girl, which way to the archives? And maps? We're going to need maps." He was already walking towards the looming towers of the school castle, completely ignoring the wild-eyed crowd of students that they had left behind with their mouths agape. Even Professor Colbert seemed at a loss as to what to do in such a situation. Louise, seeing that she wasn't likely to get any help from either her classmates or her teacher, chose to focus on the question he had asked rather than on the humiliating implications of a mage being manhandled and kidnapped by their familiar.

"Maps?" the pink haired girl asked, sounding just as baffled as she felt, "What do you need maps for?"

The red-maned giant turned his face slightly to look at her perched on his shoulder and gave her a wide grin that nearly split his face. It was an infectious grin and Louise could feel herself wanting to smile back in return. She would have been smiling back in return if she were not feeling so nervous. In a manner, his wide and honest smile reminded her of her sister Cattleya's reserved and gentle smile. Though they were both obviously diametrically opposed, both smiles made her somehow feel comfortable and eager to share in the mirth. However, the mans next words promptly killed any such thoughts of smiling.

"Why for war, of course," the giant said in a deceptively gentle tone that reminded Louise of her father explaining things to her when she was younger, "We're going to need maps to decide which country we should conquer first!"

A minute passed in silence as the giant man and the tiny girl approached the school proper at a brisk pace, the ground being covered rapidly by the giant mans long strides. The silence did not last long.

"WHAT?" Louise finally shrieked once her mind processed what she had just heard. Her eyes were wide and slightly frantic. Her face was slightly pale. She couldn't have heard right, could she?

"Maps," he said again plainly, not sounding the least bit put out by Louise's outburst, "You can't start a war without knowing which way you're marching first, now can you?"

"WHAT?" Louise screeched again, louder than before, still not quite believing what she had just heard. Her eyes got even wider and her face paler. She broke out in a cold sweat.

"You have a very shrill voice, girl," the giant noted as he winced slightly at the noise. He did not, however, stop in his approach of the castle. They were practically at the gates now, and the crowd of bewildered students plus teacher had chased after them, on foot even, since everyone was too startled to remember that they could levitate. They were shouting at them, but whatever was being said was lost thanks to the murmur of the crowd itself and the distance. Louise's voice, however, was perfectly clear despite the distance.

"WHAT?" Louise bellowed at the top of her lungs, her face quickly shifting from pale and clammy into a bright red that was a mixture of both rage and embarrassment. Now her eyes narrowed in anger. First he humiliated her in front of the crowd, then he manhandled her and kidnapped her, then he threatened open warfare against the crown, and now he insulted her? This great oaf truly knew no bounds! That was it! ENOUGH! The small girls temper had reached its limit! Furiously struggling against the fearsome grip that held her in place, she began to kick her legs at his chest and arm while beating her fists against his head. "Put me down," Louise snarled at him between clenched teeth, her voice raising in volume with each syllable, "Put me down! Put me down this instant, you brute! PUT! ME! DOWN!"

And, just like that, the huge man stopped. Turning to face the red-faced struggling girl on his shoulder, a look of confusion and then comprehension crossed his rugged features. Slowly and gently, almost as if he were afraid that she would break, he set her down on the ground in front of them. Once again, he looked at the short girl with a look of intense concentration on his face. Louise, still fuming but far calmer and more pleased with herself now that she had managed to show the brute his place, looked up at him with a sneer painted on her doll like features. The rest of the class was almost upon them, looks of surprise and bewilderment on their faces, and Louise could feel the beginnings of smugness begin to rise in her chest at showing them her new found control over the brute.

"Well?" she asked craning her neck to look up at him, "What do you have to say for yourself, familiar?"

The tall bronze skinned man only looked at her with a concerned and perplexed expression. The crowd was nearing rapidly now and the man seemed, for some reason, anxious. Louise was not particularly concerned. A little discomfort would help teach the rude brute his place, she thought with a certain degree of satisfaction.

"Girl," the huge man started and stopped. He seemed at a loss for words, almost as if he wanted to speak of a subject he did not know how to breach. He looked at her in consternation once again and tried once more to speak. "Little girl," Louise's eyebrow twitched and the man stopped. The red haired man looked around and noticing the crowd beginning to gather around them, he once again knelt low and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially in Louise's ear, using one large hand to cover his mouth and prevent his voice from carrying.

"Little girl," he said once more in a tone that was barely audible in contrast to his usual rumbling voice, "is the reason why you wanted to get down so insistently... the reason... well... little girl... do you need to go pee?"

Louise STARED at him.

Then, with a roar like a great wyrm from legend, she kicked him in the chin with all her might.

This was quite likely a bad idea.

There was a resounding crack and the huge man jerked his head back slightly, but did not topple over as Louise had hoped. Additionally, Louise was not sure if the sound had come from his jaw or from her foot. Judging from the intense feeling of pain currently shooting up her leg it was probably her foot.

Yes, that was definitely her foot.

This had most certainly been a bad idea.

The crowd flinched as Louise fell to the ground howling in pain and clutching at her foot after having kicked the huge man. Almost instantaneously, Professor Colbert was at her side placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and trying to calm the writhing girl down. Louise's eyes were bright and shiny with tears, but she did not shed them as she glared with fury at the muscular man who was idly rubbing his chin. Louise would not shed a single tear because it absolutely would not do to cry in front of the rest of the class after all the humiliation she had gone through today. Not even for a broken foot. Instead, she focused on her anger.

"What are you made out of? Steel?" she shouted at him while the bespectacled professor called on a water mage student to come look at her. As if Louise's question were the incantation that finished a spell, every other student present started to bombard the tall stranger with questions of their own.

"Are you a barbarian?"

"What is your tribe called?"

"Which land do you come from?"

"You are half giant, aren't you?"

"No, no, he's obviously an efreet!"

"He's not on fire so he can't be an efreet. He's just some crazy swordsman."

The tall man ignored them choosing instead to once again focus his attention on Louise. His expression was curious as he watched her being tended to. He cocked an eyebrow slightly in curiosity at seeing the healing spell being cast by the blonde with the ringlet curls, but gave no other outward sign of surprise at the use of magic. He looked at the trembling small girl and took note of her eyes.

"Girl," he said in his normal rumbling voice, immediately silencing all the questions being leveled at him, "you're not going to cry? It sounded like you broke something."

Louise hissed in pain as the healing magic washed over her. Her eyes were locked on the giant before her and she barely heard the professor and the Montmorency girl telling her she should not put too much weight on the foot for the next few days. She heard what the man in front of her said clearly, however, and she replied simply.

"No," Louise said and the crowd stared at her.

"No?" the man said curiosity evident in his voice, just as interest was written plainly on his face.

"NO!" she shouted back at him angrily, startling Professor Colbert, Montmorency, and the gathered students, "I will not cry!"

A grin formed on the man's face and he began to laugh uproariously. His loud, bellowing laughter seemed to be enough to shake the very ground beneath them and it had started so suddenly that many of the students were startled by it.

"You're something else, girl!" he said between peals of noisy laughter. His eyes were gleaming now and he seemed thoroughly pleased with himself for some reason as he looked down at the prone girl. Still laughing, but more sedately now, he spoke in a slightly sheepish tone, "Girl, what did you say your name was again?"

Louise gaped up at him, her fury partially replaced by astonishment. He hadn't even bothered to remember her name? That's why he had been calling her "girl" all this time? That incomparable brute! Muscle bound oaf! She gritted her teeth and snarled out a reply, her face red with renewed and barely restrained anger.

"It's Louise. Louise Francoise La Blanc de La Valliere."

"That's a big name for such a small girl," the huge man said smiling gently completely ignoring the rage in her voice, "And a 'warrior', is it? I am a 'warrior' too."

He had knelt once more and, having forced himself between the Professor and Louise, had helped the short girl gingerly to her feet, taking great care not to put undue strain on her injured foot. Louise was startled but did not resist. Though she knew his grip to be fearsomely powerful he lifted her to her feet gently so that she could stand on her own. He regarded her carefully for a moment and then stood back to his full, imposing height. He continued speaking and his voice was clear and solemn.

"I am Rider, Alexander the Third of Macedon, The King of Conquerors. From now on, my reins are yours and your fate shall be mine. Together we shall conquer the world. This is our pact."

The tall man known as Alexander and the short girl known as Louise regarded each other in perfect stillness as the crowd of gathered students exploded in a flurry of excitement.

"I knew it!" someone cried out in amazement, "He is a barbarian warlord!"

"Where's Macedon?" someone asked, "Is it beyond Rub-Al Khalid?"

"A king? Conquer the world? He's a madman!"

"I told you he was just some crazy swordsman!"

"Rider? What does that mean? Like a gryphon knight?"

"So, he's not an efreet after all?"

The frenzy that the young students were working themselves into was interrupted by Professor Colbert's raised voice cutting through the excited babbling of the crowd. Normally, the tall and lean fire magic instructor was amongst the most patient of their teachers, but it seemed like the series of incredible events that had transformed a regular summoning ritual into a circus had finally frayed the last of the man's patience away.

"ENOUGH!" the bespectacled professor shouted, immediately silencing the noisy chatter of the students. He rubbed at his forehead with his free hand and let out an annoyed sigh. His voice was tired as he spoke.

"As exciting and interesting as Miss Valliere's... unusual summoning might be, I'm afraid that you all are very late for your next class. So you will all be moving along back to the castle," here he accompanied his statement with a wave of the hand that held his staff in the direction of the nearest castle tower, "and giving my most sincere apologies to your instructor while Miss Valliere finishes contracting her familiar, understood?"

There was much grumbling from the students but they all moved to comply with the orders of their teacher, their varied animal familiars moving with them. However, they were still muttering excitedly under their breaths about the strange man that Louise had summoned. A mad barbarian king from an uncharted land? That was something else!

"Oh? We're not done yet, are we?" the man who had finally identified himself grinned as he broke his staring contest with Louise to glance at the dark robed teacher.

"No, Mister..." and here the professor looked at him inquisitively, asking which of the titles he had given he should use to call him by.

"Rider. You may call me Rider," the red-headed giant replied, smiling, "It is not a name, but a title. However, it will suffice for now."

"Then no, Mr. Rider, I am afraid we're not done yet," the balding man sighed dispiritedly and continued, "Well, Ms. Valliere, if you could please finish the ceremony?"

Louise's eyes widened slightly as the professor's words finally seeped into the jumble of her thoughts. She pointed at Rider with a shaky finger and spoke in a stuttering voice.

"W-w-what? W-w-with h-h-him? Y-you must be joking! I refuse!" She huffed indignantly and crossed her arms over chest defiantly. Jean Colbert, however, was having none of it.

"Ms. Valliere," he said in a tone which froze her blood, "finish the ritual. Now."

Louise physically shrank in on herself at the tone of her professor's voice.

"Can't I try to summon something else?" she tried in a small voice as her eyes fretfully jumped from one man to the other. Rider, for his part, had crossed his arms over his chest and looked thoroughly bored.

"No, Ms. Valliere," Colbert replied impassively, "you cannot."

"Well, umm... he's crazy? I definitely should try to summon something else, Professor!"

"Crazy or not," and here the man known as Rider had made an exclamation of protest, "he is still your familiar. Finish the contract."

"Err..." she was grasping at straws now, trying to evade what she knew she had to do, "He broke my foot?"

"You broke your foot yourself, Ms. Valliere," the professor said in an exasperated tone as he once again massaged his forehead, "Please stop stalling. This is a very important and sacred rite, you know? It is tradition."

Louise's shoulders slumped and she looked down at her feet in defeat.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" she said without looking up.

"No, Ms. Valliere, I'm afraid you don't," the professor said solemnly.

"You're wrong about that," Rider said in a serious tone, "Louise has a choice. She could choose to fly in the face of your traditions and run away."

Louise and Colbert looked at the huge man in stunned silence. Rider's face was unreadable as he knelt in front of Louise and looked into her reddish brown eyes.

"So what will it be, girl?" he said, reverting to his normal form of address for her, "Will you finish our contract? Or are you going to turn tail and run away from it all?"

Louise's eyes hardened at hearing those words and her lips tightened into a small line. She replied by touching his forehead with her wand.

"My name is Louise Francoise La Blanc de La Valliere. Pentagon of the Five Elemental Powers; bless this humble being, and make him my familiar," she intoned in a formal voice, her eyes like steel.

Then, cupping his face in her small hands, she kissed him on the lips. The kiss lasted only for a moment and then Louise broke it, momentarily looking as if she had just chewed on a lemon before she schooled her face back into an impassive mask.

"It is done," she said in the same formal manner as she took a step back from the man who would be her familiar.

Rider laughed as he stood up. He cut an imposing figure even as he laughed without restraint.

"You're bold, girl! That's good! That's good! My Master should be bold!" he said while laughing, "You'll have to grow a bit more to get more than a kiss though! You're a bit runty still!"

Louise snarled at him and considered kicking him in the shins but decided against it. It simply would not do to break her other foot right now. That would truly be the final humiliation. Instead she settled for glaring at him and hoping a rock would fall on him.

Professor Colbert for his part had let out a relieved sigh and cupped his chin with his free hand.

"Well, Ms. Valliere, you may have failed 'Summon Servant' many times this morning, but it seems like you have managed to succeed with 'Contract Servant' in one try," Professor Colbert said happily, "We should see the runes materialize any moment now."

"Runes?" Rider said, sounding puzzled. He was about to speak again when a startled look crossed his face and he lifted his left hand to his face. There, at the back of his hand, smoke was rising and several bright scarlet runes were burning themselves unto his skin. The air was filled with the smell of burning flesh and both Louise and Colbert looked away uncomfortably. This, they thought, was not normal.

"This is not normal," Rider said, still staring at the back of his hand in bewilderment.

"These are extremely unusual runes," Colbert said sounding amazed, "And red? I have never seen red runes before..." He trailed off.

"Does it matter?" Louise asked testily, "He has the runes now. That means he is my familiar, right?"

"Yes, well, I suppose it does not matter at that," the professor spoke in a voice that clearly said he was not so convinced at all, "I suppose congratulations are in order, Ms. Valliere. It may have taken the better part of the day but you have succeeded... spectacularly."

Louise chose to take those words at face value and said a simple, "Thank you."

The professor gave her a curt nod, looked at the still stunned warrior, and silently departed back towards the school castle at a brisk pace leaving Louise and her familiar alone at the gates.

A moment passed in silence before Rider spoke again.

"This is not normal," Rider echoed, still focused on his hand. In a daze, he turned to face Louise and said, "Girl, you are a magi, right? And this is a school of magic, is it not?"

She nodded her head in reply, feeling surprised at the tall man's sudden change in demeanor. The entire day he had been loud, boisterous, and entirely too full of himself. Now, he was clearly confused and startled by something. What was so unusual about the runes anyway? Certainly, red might be an unusual color, but runes are runes, aren't they? Even barbarians had to know about familiar runes, right?

"Girl, can you walk?" he said giving her an intense look. She gave a shaky nod and he continued, "There is no shame in asking for help when you are hurt. Louise, can you walk?"

This time, she sighed and shook her head. With a wry grin that did not quite reach his eyes, he knelt and gently picked her up and sat her once more on his shoulders. He turned and faced the school castle.

"Girl, this is not normal," he said once more as he began to stride towards the nearby gates, his strides long and purposeful, "So you're going to point me towards your archives and then we're going to sit down and talk at length about your plans for this Holy Grail War."

"Holy Grail War? What madness are you speaking of this time, familiar? Do your delusions seek to encompass the church now as well?" she asked in an irritated tone. He stopped again and turned to look at her.

"You don't know?"

She shook her head and replied, sounding miffed, "Well, I can't be expected to know about every delusion my familiar might be having, now can I?"

He stared at her for what seemed an eternity before speaking again.

"Now we really need to talk."

The right spark can cause anything to burn.


	2. Chapter 2

Zero no Tsukaima is the property of Noboru Yamaguchi and Media Factory.

Fate/Zero is the property of NitroPlus and TYPE-MOON.

I claim no ownership of the characters featured in this story. This is a work of fan-fiction.

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><p>Alexandriad: The Song of Fire<p>

Chapter Two

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><p>Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière was, to put it succinctly, exhausted. Bone weary did not even come close to defining how thoroughly tired and spent she felt as she collapsed herself into her bed still dressed in her school uniform, cape and all. Hugging her pillow tightly to herself she went over the day's events in her head and found herself unable to decide whether she should grin foolishly or groan in frustration.<p>

The day, she finally decided, could have gone much worse. Even if she had not summoned a dragon or a griffin like she had originally wanted, she had surely summoned an impressive familiar and not something humiliating like she had originally feared. On the positive side of things, the barbarian warlord was a HUGE and imposing man. His strange clothes, his muscular physique and his towering height had immediately caught everyone's attention almost as fully Tabitha's own dragon had. In addition, there was also a strange air about him, a quality to his presence, which reeked of power even when he stood perfectly still. Louise didn't doubt for a second that he could wrestle into submission the one dragon that did get summoned.

...Well, maybe not quite that much. Dragons were extremely powerful and she doubted barbarians could easily fight them when mages had such respect and fear of the beasts, even if the rest of the barbarians were as massive and muscular as her familiar was. Maybe a bear? Yes, definitely a bear. Her familiar would certainly have no problem wrestling a bear, she decided. Come to think of it, those brutal looking scars on his massive arms probably came from bear wrestling or some other equally barbaric pursuit. That would be quite an amazing sight, wouldn't it? She stowed that thought away in a corner of her mind as a possibility for the upcoming Familiar's Fair.

Yes, her familiar was certainly quite impressive. The rest of the class had reacted with amazement and awe, and the pink haired girl felt herself very pleased with such a reaction. Maybe it wasn't quite "respect" or even "friendship" like she so desperately wanted, but if she could trade in the jeers and sneers she usually got for gawks and squawks of astonishment then she would gladly accept that trade. Still, despite the positive points that her familiar had accrued in his favor, her thoughts found themselves none the less drifting to the reason for her current state of complete and total burnout, and her exuberant mood turned sour.

Simply put, Rider, as her familiar professed to call himself, was without a doubt insane.

Very, very insane.

Louise had thought he couldn't possibly get any crazier after he had declared himself a "King of Conquerors" with delusions of world conquest in front of the entire second year class, but she had been wrong.

Extremely wrong.

She hadn't been at all prepared for their discussion in the dimly lit library and the mad dream that he called "The Holy Grail War".

The idea of a holy, wish granting relic that no one had heard about in nearly six thousand years of history? Absolutely preposterous. The church would know and, by extension, so would the faithful. That there existed a secret war between seven nobles to decide who would claim ownership of said relic? Highly unlikely as any noble involved in such a struggle would surely bring in their own armies and retainers to fight for them rather than risk their own life in secret. That he was, somehow, the reincarnated spirit of a long dead hero summoned forth to protect one of the chosen nobles in exchange for a chance at said wish? Laughable if not for the fact that the entire concept was so ridiculously absurd to begin with. That she was one of the nobles chosen for said secret war and that she would have to risk her life in the struggle for an imaginary relic? Louise had received no letter of invitation and even if she had, she was certain her parents would absolutely not agree with her participation. Not that she wanted to participate or anything!

Louise sighed despondently into her pillow and rolled in her bed from side to side, crumpling the sheets. For all of Rider's impressive physical presence, the moment he opened his mouth she had only been able to feel anger and frustration at his words and fantasies. Next the brute would be telling her that he was actually from another world or that he owned a flying chariot or something equally demented. She snorted derisively at the thought. He was physically imposing and had done a good job of amazing those gathered for the summoning ritual, but if she allowed him to speak any word of his ridiculous fantasies then she would never be able to live down the humiliation. Louise grumbled something that was muffled by her pillow and raised her eyes to the huge man hunched over her desk with a pile of books so tall that it nearly overshadowed his massive frame.

Her familiar was pouring over various tomes that they had picked up from the library during the course of his children's tale and he was currently going over all of them rapidly while muttering under his breath. Louise thought she could hear him saying "not normal" and she wondered if he was going to go on another spiel about his fantasy war. After all, the first spiel had been as a result of his own abnormal runes. But he didn't turn around to face her to give another rant and instead she saw him take another book in a large hand, quickly page through it, and close it with an angry sounding snort. He seemed increasingly frustrated.

The pink haired girl worried her lips with her teeth as she watched her familiar go through the increasingly disorderly pile of books. He couldn't be reading them. He was barely glancing at the pages before closing the tome and moving on. Maybe, she thought, he couldn't read? She knew most commoners couldn't but she honestly had no idea if barbarians from beyond Rub'al Khali would know to read at all. Did they even speak the same language? Louise shook her head at the ridiculous thought. He obviously knew the language and he had picked out the books himself so he had certainly expected to be able to read them. Perhaps whoever had taught him his letters had done a poor job of teaching him? Had he unwittingly learned the letters for another land? Louise watched with a growing morbid fascination as he took yet another book in his hands.

Once again, he skimmed through it quickly and slammed it shut. The giant's hands trembled and for a moment she thought he was going to tear the tome in half before the trembling stopped and he gently placed the book amongst the other ones. He sighed and glanced over to the pile of untouched books but did not reach out for a new one. Her familiar seemed greatly aggravated and deep in thought. Something ugly and petty reared its head within Louise and she felt a strange sense of satisfaction as she watched him struggle futilely. Confident and overbearing, he had humiliated her in front of the rest of her classmates by manhandling her and breaking her foot. It was strangely gratifying to see him out of his depth.

Still, not even this perverse enjoyment would last, as something nagged at her in the back of her mind as she watched her familiar struggle against the unyielding pages and letters. Louise was reminded of how a familiar reflects the magical aptitude of the summoning mage and she anxiously began to consider what summoning an insane familiar implied about her own abilities. Rider was impressive to look at but that was merely a thin veneer over the madness that lurked within him. A lunatic pretending at normalcy. Was he somehow a reflection of Louise's own considerable lineage covering for the frightful inability that was her shame to bear? Was his own failure to accomplish a simple task such as reading a dark mirror to Louise's own powerlessness to cast even the simplest spells?

Was she a... she shuddered at the thought not wanting to finish it lest she burst into tears. But discipline was in her blood and she found herself completing it against her will... Was she a commoner merely pretending at nobility?

No, never that!

Impossible!

These thoughts made her shiver in her bed-sheets and hug her pillow even tighter than before. No, that couldn't be it. Her familiar was impressive. She had certainly amazed the rest of the class with her summoning. Rider was merely the first step towards the greatness that was rightfully hers. But... what if...? Inwardly, she cursed her own fatalistic pessimism as her exhaustion and anxiety slowly lulled her into a restless sleep still unable to decide whether she was elated or disappointed with her summoning.

Rider, hearing the evened breathing that signaled the departure of his tiny master into the realm of Hypnos, stood up with an unreadable expression on his face. Moving away from the messy desk, he headed in the direction of the windows to look out towards the dark night sky.

Two moons hung in the heavens, large and blue and red. He had noticed them before while they were walking through the castle and dismissed them. The girl had been quite thoroughly ignorant about the Holy Grail War and, moreover, seemed honestly disturbed by the idea of the secret struggle. The idea that the man she had summoned was not of this world might have pushed her over the edge and so he had, on a whim, chosen to remain silent. Now, observing the two moons, he pondered their significance, their meaning, and what they changed for him.

They changed nothing.

Earth or not, Holy Grail War or not, Servant or not, abnormal summoning or not, they all changed absolutely nothing. His way of kingship drove him forward towards conquest. Where and when it did not matter. That he had received scant knowledge of his current location or time from his summoning and bizarrely lost the ability to read did not matter. This new and alien world where magic was once more common place would be his, just as the entire Earth had once been his. It would be an entertaining challenge. Rider's grin turned feral at the thought and he headed back to the desk where the inexplicably unreadable books waited for him, his steps as certain and as purposeful as ever. One way or another he was going to learn more about the culture and history of this new world. Information, as much as waiting and fighting, was also an integral part of war.

Unawares, Louise snuggled tighter against her pillow and slept and dreamed. Normally her dreams were of magical success and acceptance, of playing with her older sister or of childhood games and joys but tonight... tonight, her dreams were different.

Tonight her dreams were overwhelmed by the roar of waves lapping against a foreign shore.

She was at a beach, dawn barely breaking, the sun a small red disk barely peeking above the horizon. The water at the far edge of the horizon was sparkling like a million rubies, like a sea of fire stretching across the darkness towards her.

The sandy beach beneath her feet stretched endlessly towards both her left and right. There was no end in sight. The dark surface of the sea broke against the shore and foamed across her feet. She looked across the landscape before her eyes and could see no opposite shore. Was there land across that faraway horizon? Or, was there absolutely nothing beyond the sea?

The waves roared once more and besides their restless sounds there was only absolute silence. The crashing of the waves against the pristine beach obliterated all other sound.

Besides the sound of the waves there was nothing else.

Not even the whisper of stray breeze blew across this desolate shore.

The dark sky, barely beginning to be tinged with crimson, had no clouds. Not a single gust blew across this shore and there was no sign of human activities anywhere nearby.

The sky reflected the perfect stillness of the distant sea and there was nothing else.

How could anyone have ever found such a place of beauty? A place immaculate, untouched, unsullied and perfectly beautiful? Crimson and black and white, sky and sea and earth mixed together so perfectly, so exquisitely? Going forward continuously, going forward continuously further, further and further away, leaving every single thing in this world behind; only in that manner could one ever hope to reach this desolate, empty coast.

That is why surely, at the other side of the horizon, there was absolutely nothing.

She realized that this was the sea at the end of the world.

If she only closed her eyes, the foam at her feet, the roar of the waves would take her and reduce her to nothingness as well, leaving only memories behind. Because...

There was nothing else.

Nothing but the sky, and the sand, and the endless sea before her...

The entire scene brought tears to her eyes. Such... magnificence. The splendor before her made something swell and ignite within her heart. Who would be permitted to reach such a scene? Who could reach the extreme end of the world? Beyond Germania, beyond Rub'al Khali, and beyond even the lands uncharted? A place where no person had stepped in living memory? She wanted to bask in the majesty of this perfect scene forever.

The roaring serenade of the sea reached deep within her...

But dreams, as is their wont to do, are not meant to last.

The melody of the roaring sea became distant...

And she tumbled out of bed.

Crash.

"Owie!"

Louise, a cursing tangle of limbs and cape and bed-sheets, struggled to free herself, her irritation superceding her usual morning bleariness. The small pink haired noble was perfectly lucid as she finally managed to extricate herself from the seemingly inescapable bed-sheets and turned her gaze to her room. Judging by the amount of light pouring in it was already early morning. And, also, there was a strange man sitting at her desk.

Who the-!

Oh, wait. Spring-time Familiar Summoning Ritual. That was her familiar, Rider, the slightly (Alright, very) crazy barbarian from beyond Rub'al Khali. He was still hunched over her desk, his massive shoulders obscuring the contents of her desk, while pouring over the various tomes. This time, however, he was carefully going over each page rather than simply paging through the books though he still had an air of frustration about him. Had he stayed up all night attempting to read? Louise was not sure whether she found this admirable or annoying.

"You're noisy, Louise. Do you usually wake up with such a racket?"

How rude! Without even turning to look her way, he was already poking fun at her? He should have been helping her get untangled! Uncultured savage!

"Sh-shut up! I was just having a strange dream, that's all!" Dream? What had she been dreaming about? Louise's expression was quizzical as she tried to recall. It had been majestic, of that she was convinced, and dominated by a roaring sound that consumed everything around her. Had she been dreaming of dragons?

The huge man just snorted at her from his place at the desk and closed the book he had been slowly paging through. He turned around to face her sitting on the floor, still wrapped in her blanket, looking a frightful mess.

"Dreams, huh?" he said in a curious tone, "You sure are carefree, girl. Aren't you a student? Don't you have lessons to attend?"

Louise grumbled but nodded her head causing Rider to turn back to the books. He was right, she did have lessons to attend and better ways to spend her time than arguing with a man prone to delusions. Letting loose a loud yawn, the pink haired noble stretched and stood up from the messy tangle of her bed-sheets. A quick dip in the tub in the small alcove that functioned as her bathroom helped to remove the last few cobwebs from her mind, even if she was still addled by some degree of morning lethargy. Lazily, she sauntered over to her drawers and fished out a new and unwrinkled uniform to wear. Idly she considered asking her familiar to dress her and finally decided against it. Judging by his strange clothes, he was probably unfamiliar with the fashion of her garments and, with those huge hands of his, he would quite likely bowl her over trying to button up her blouse. Louise snorted in an unladylike fashion at that thought as she finished dressing herself.

She was about to call for her familiar to carry her so that she would not strain her foot when she found herself suddenly lifted off her feet once again. Apparently, while she was focused on dressing herself, her familiar had somehow managed to walk up to her in near perfect silence despite his enormous size. Rider grinned impudently at her and she glared defiantly at him, daring him to say something. He dared.

"What? No girlish shriek this time?"

Louise bristled and swatted at his head with her hand, causing Rider to chuckle as he strode towards the door.

"S-shut up!" she said as a slight blush colored her cheeks a rosy color. It's just that she didn't want to injure her foot and not that she was enjoying being so high up or anything of the sort! "S-s-since you're my familiar this is perfectly n-normal! You're just aiding me while I'm injured, like a loyal familiar should!"

"You really do have a loud voice for such a tiny girl," Rider noted, ignoring her tirade, "We're going to have to work on that stutter, however. It's cute but not very becoming."

Instantaneous reaction!

"WHAT? How dare y-"

This time her rant was interrupted by her familiar opening the door leading out of her room and into the main hallway of the dormitory tower. However, it was not the act itself that startled her enough to suddenly become quiet, but rather the small crowd that had gathered outside of her very door. A wide-eyed crowd composed primarily of first year students who had not been present at the summoning ritual the previous day, she noted.

"Uwah," a young looking student in a brown cape said, "it was true after all!"

Similar excited murmurs and exclamations of surprise made their way through the small gathering in front of her room and Louise had to fight hard not to preen from her vantage point at Rider's shoulder.

The deluge of questions was inevitable and soon, right outside her room, a scene similar to the one that had taken the previous day in the fields was taking place, frantic questions pointed by her familiar's booming laughter. Despite his failings, Louise thought haughtily as she looked down at the gathered crowd, he does have certain benefits.

However, the impromptu gathering did not last long at all as the increasingly rowdy students and the noise attracted a very bedraggled looking Professor Colbert. He had dark bags under his eyes and a weary expression to his face. Under his arms he carried several large tomes. Clicking his staff against the stone floor of the hallway, he quickly set about dispersing the throng of students.

"Everyone, I'm sure you'll all get your chance to ask Ms. Vallière's familiar as many questions as you wish throughout the school year," the bespectacled man said in a bland tone devoid of any energy, "now, however, you're all obstructing the hallway and running late for your breakfast."

Louise and Rider both shot identical disappointed looks at the professor as the gathered crowd sullenly dispersed. The balding man, however, ignored their stares in favor of focusing on the red runes on the back of the bronze skinned man's left hand. His eyes narrowed momentarily but then he sighed dejectedly and shook his head before walking off in the direction of the headmaster's office. Louise thought she heard him mumble something that sounded strangely like "not normal" but chalked it up to nothing more than her imagination.

It was then that she noticed that where the crowd had been just moments prior, only two people were left: her nemesis Kirche and the blue haired girl from Gallia, Tabitha. The shorter of the two had a book out and was reading from it while ignoring her surroundings. Kirche, for her part, had a scowl on her face and her arms were placed defiantly at her hips. Her salamander was off to the side, curled up and napping, the flame at the tip of its tail burning lazily.

"Is this some sort of trick, Vallière?" Kirche asked hotly looking up at Louise on her perch at the shoulder of the much larger man, "or perhaps a carefully arranged personal insult?"

"Huh?" Louise intoned, thoroughly flabbergasted. That was completely unexpected. Kirche had even dispensed with the morning pleasantries and had even addressed her by last name. The taller girl sounded quite angry and, amazingly enough, somewhat hurt too.

"The barbarian!" Kirche snapped peevishly causing her salamander to swish its tail nervously in its sleep, "how did you sneak him in without anyone noticing? And did you choose him as a personal insult to me?"

"What? First of all," the pink haired girl retorted angrily, "I snuck no one in to school. This is my familiar that I summoned with 'Summon Servant', the same as everybody else." Whatever worries she might have had on the subject were carefully concealed behind her usual bluster as she finished in a smug note while looking down at Kirche (That felt surprisingly good!) before continuing, "And, secondly, I have no idea what 'insult' you're talking about."

The bronze skinned young woman drew herself angrily at those words. Tabitha turned a page mechanically. Rider stared.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about, Louise," Kirche said in an unexpectedly even voice at odds with her increasingly furious expression, "How the rest of this prudish little country thinks that we're nothing more than savages and louts. I do not normally care for the words and actions of others but for you to purposefully sabotage your own summoning to arrange something so petty and cruel and what are you staring at?"

Louise opened her mouth to reply and closed it with a nearly audible click. What? She turned to face her familiar and found him staring downwards in rapt attention. Was he staring at Kirche's breasts? Louise's face flushed a bright, angry red color and she prepared to slap Rider before she noticed that he was not even paying attention to Kirche at all but was, instead, focused entirely on Tabitha. Tabitha turned a page unaware or uncaring of having suddenly become the center of attention.

"Huh," the huge man said, sounding perplexed as he stretched a heavily muscled arm and raised Tabitha by the neck of her cape almost as if he were lifting some puppy or kitten by the scruff of their neck. Tabitha, for her part, continued reading her book as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. Louise and Kirche were stunned silent, their argument forgotten, as Rider scrutinized the blue haired girl for several seconds before announcing, "Girls sure are tiny in this land. Is it something in the water? Or maybe this one is actually some sort of magical doll?"

Something hurt and angry flashed in the young girl's blue eyes for a moment but was quickly replaced by her normal aloof gaze. Neither Louise nor Kirche noticed it.

"Not a doll," Tabitha corrected coolly as she nonchalantly turned a page of her book while suspended in midair, more offended by the offhand comment than by being manhandled by a complete stranger.

"Is that so? Are you sure?" Rider asked as he grinned broadly at the diminutive girl he was currently holding by her cape.

Tabitha, for only a moment, raised her gaze from her book to the widely grinning face of the strange man before once again returning to her book and turning to the next page.

"Certain," she replied in her usual soft voice.

Rider let loose a rumbling chuckle as he carefully placed the reading girl back on the ground. She did not say thanks but merely gave a simple glance of acknowledgement before turning her attention fully to her book once more. He ruffled her short hair with one huge hand that easily enveloped her entire head. Louise and Kirche merely blinked at the exchange, looking quite lost. Before they had a chance to voice their confusion or retake their argument, Rider was already purposefully moving away, taking Louise with him. This time Louise did shriek at the sudden displacement.

"Wait! Wait! Where are you going now, you brute?" she said sternly as they began to rapidly move away from the dormitories thanks to her familiar's long strides. She could hear Kirche's shouts fading fast behind them and soon they were out of earshot. "Take me back! I'm not done talking to Kirche!"

"Isn't it obvious? It's morning so we're going to the kitchens," Rider said reasonably while sniffing theatrically, as if he were a bloodhound, completely ignoring her request to turn back as he navigated through the stone hallways of the school towers, "Can't start a campaign on an empty stomach. The troops would rebel."

"What? No! Stop! STOP!" Louise yelled in his ear, "I don't particularly care if you want to sneak food from the kitchens but why am I getting dragged along too? We nobles eat in our own dining hall!"

"Oh? Isn't it obvious?" he replied cheerfully, "My Master must be someone willing to stand beside me, even against the gates of hell!"

"...Gates of hell? You just want to go to the kitchens, you idiot!'

"All the same!"

He was laughing again and Louise seethed as she was dragged along by her familiar. Why couldn't she have summoned an obedient familiar? Instead she had to get an insufferable one that was out of touch with reality. At least the rest of the school only knew about his impressive physique and hadn't had the chance to listen to his delusions in depth. If that were the case then she would've really been mortified. Her thoughts were interrupted as her familiar suddenly stopped, a quizzical expression on his face. She was amazed to find that he had actually been going in the right direction for the dining halls and the kitchens, but what could have caused him to stop was not readily apparent until she saw the small gathering in the hallway ahead.

Guiche and a gaggle of his friends were loitering outside the open doors of the Alivss Dining Hall, talking about girls. Louise rolled her eyes in exasperation at their posturing and pomposity. Suddenly, she felt Rider's huge hand around her waist, steadying her on his shoulder as he leaned down to pick up something from the stone floors. He was carrying a small purple vial in his previously free hand, she noted.

"Hey, boy, you dropped this," Rider said as he tapped Guiche on the shoulder with the small vial.

They continued talking as if no one had spoken up or tried to butt in on their conversation. Louise was about to tell Rider to forget about the vial and drop her at the Dining Hall when Rider suddenly let loose a booming shout.

"HEY, FRILLY SHIRT! YOU DROPPED THIS!"

Apparently, she noted, he could easily ignore others but didn't like being ignored. She could see the startled expressions on the faces of Guiche and his friends. The shout had taken them as unawares as it had her. The young Gramont, his eyes wide, turned to face them looking increasingly nervous.

"That is not mine," he said in a slightly uneasy tone, backing away from the purple vial held in front of him. One of the young men that had been crowding him, a rather more corpulent member of the gender, however, spoke up.

"Say, that perfume, isn't that Montmorency's?" the young man asked, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he examined the proffered vial, "The perfume that Montmorency mixes only for herself is a vivid purple, right?"

"Ah, you're right," another chimed in his face bright with new found understanding, "So to have something like that fall from your person means that you're going out with Montmorency now, doesn't it, Guiche?"

"No wait, you misunderstand," the accused young man said, panic clearly written on his face as he waved his arms protectively in front of himself, "lower your voices, Founder damn you! I was only holding it for her! Let me explain..."

Before he could get further in his supposed explanation he was interrupted by the sudden appearance of young girl in a brown cloak. Louise couldn't help the grin that bloomed on her face as she watched Guiche squirm uncomfortably. For his part, Rider was watching the developments with an expression of mild curiosity.

"K-katie!" Guiche yelped in a high pitched voice, "They're blowing things out of proportion! It's not like that at all! Katie, listen, the only person I hold in my heart is..."

He did not get a chance to say anymore as the cute young girl with the long chestnut colored hair slapped him as hard as she could, tears streaming down her face.

"Lord Guiche, you're a liar!"

Sobbing uncontrollably, she ran away from the dining hall. The spot she had so suddenly vacated was immediately occupied by another young girl, this one dressed in a dark purple cape and with her long blonde hair combed in elaborate ringlet curls. Rider recognized her as the mage that had healed Louise's foot the previous day. Her features were set in a severe frown and her delicate eyebrows were twitching.

"Montmorency, this is all a misunderstanding," Guiche pleaded. His face had turned from panic into full-blown dread and sweat was beginning to dot his brow, "I can explain everything, you see? All I did was accompany her..."

He was interrupted as Montmorency stomped violently on his foot and then slapped him with all her might. Louise flinched slightly at the resounding crack of the impact while Rider whistled appreciatively.

"You cheater!" Monmorency shouted. With a disdainful shake of her head, she turned around and stormed away, departing with the words, "Go die!"

Guiche moaned piteously as he tried to rub at his swollen cheek with one hand while gingerly standing on one foot. Louise very carefully did not giggle at the sorry sight that he painted. Everyone else, the crowd of students that had surrounded Guiche and the rest of the students inside the dining hall, were stunned silent. That is, until Rider spoke up again.

"That is pathetic, boy," he said in an amused tone while looking down at the golden haired young man, "Deceiving and misleading to try and bed two girls? If you wanted two lovers that badly you should have simply approached them both directly as a true man would instead of being a coward about it."

Chuckles broke out among the young men that surrounded him as Guiche's face flushed an angry scarlet, the noble quickly forgetting his aches and pains. He angrily whirled around to face the much taller man, his cape billowing dramatically behind him.

"First you ruin the reputations of two ladies by carelessly picking up some bottle of perfume and then you presume to insult me?" Guiche said in an even tone, "Truly, the familiar of Louise the Zero is nothing more than an ill-mannered brute. Someone should teach you the proper respect you should have for your betters."

The murmuring crowd went silent once more and Louise paled slightly at the threat implied in those words. Rider, however, only grinned down impudently at the younger man.

"Oh?" he asked nonchalantly, "Are you offering lessons now?"

Guiche shook his head and smiled a thin smile at the much taller man.

"Don't be stupid," the young noble said like a man addressing a dullard, "I couldn't possibly taint the hallowed halls of our school with the unclean blood of some filthy savage, could I? Have your master guide you to the Vestri Court. We shall teach you your proper place there, oaf."

Without another word, Guiche stalked off, his small group of followers tailing after him excitedly. Many of them were speaking enthusiastically about the arranged match, though one expressed apprehension.

"H-hey, Guiche," a chubby student in a purple cape stuttered as they moved away, "are you sure about this? That man is huge! He looks like he could tear you in half!"

Guiche merely snorted derisively and shook his head, waving his rose wand dramatically for emphasis.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall," he said with a sneer of supreme arrogance painted on his handsome features, "there is no way an uncultured savage could ever defeat a mage in a duel. "

Louise found herself agreeing with the retreating back of the young man. She was about to berate her familiar and order him to withdraw from the duel as no barbarian could ever hope to overcome a mage, no matter how tall or muscular they were, but when she turned to look at him the words died on her lips.

Rider was smiling, a sight which sent a cold shiver down Louise's spine as she was uncomfortably reminded only civilized humans ever smiled as a show of friendliness. Animals bared their teeth too, but only a challenge before it tore out the throat of some prey...

'Is a barbarian more human...or animal?'

She didn't know, and that terrified her.

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><p>The right spark can cause anything to burn.<p>

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><p>Author's notes: Three weeks this time. Not too bad though I was hoping I could get this out faster. Truth is, I wrote too much and when I sent the chapter to my pre-readers they agreed the chapter felt bloated and it lost focus so I decided to trim it a bit and move some scenes to Chapter Three. Thanks to alfheimwanderer, DreamsRequiem, and Leopardbear for pre-reading. alfheimwanderer kindly did some slight editing duties as well. Thank you! With the scenes that were cut I'm already two thousand words into Chapter Three so that should be out sooner, provided that work decides to cooperate. No promises though.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Zero no Tsukaima is the property of Noboru Yamaguchi and Media Factory.

Fate/Zero is the property of NitroPlus and TYPE-MOON.

I claim no ownership of the characters featured in this story. This is a work of fan-fiction.

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><p>Alexandriad: The Song of Fire<p>

Chapter Three

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><p>News spread through the Tristain Academy of Magic like wildfire once more. Late the previous day, a similar situation had taken place when the second year students had entered the school compound from the fields used for the Spring-Time Familiar Summoning Ritual, talking animatedly about the ceremony and spreading stories as they parted ways to their different destinations. This time the inferno began in the Alviss Dining Hall, with excited students racing through the halls of the school complex and into dormitories and lecture halls to let their friends hear the latest gossip and these, in turn, would rush over to their own friends, the news jumping like tendrils of flame from one fuel source to the next.<p>

This morning, the point of origin may have been different, but the subject of conversation was the same.

The Zero's Familiar.

The summoning of the massive barbarian warlord had been the topic of conversation last night. And this morning, he was once more the subject of everyone's thoughts. Previously this had been because of his sheer physical presence and the utter absurdity of summoning a human being as a familiar. Today, though, it was because the dim brute had actually offended a noble and earned himself the right to a thrashing to be from the youngest son of General Gramont.

At least, so were the thoughts of the vast majority of the student population.

A few students who had actually seen the massive man walking around school with Louise the Zero sitting on one large shoulder were beginning to express their doubts as to the outcome of the so-called duel. After all, Guiche was only a dot mage and the barbarian was a very, very intimidating man. Many wondered what manner of idiocy could have ever possessed Guiche de Gramont to agree to fight someone so ridiculously huge.

Then they realized the question was self-explanatory.

For her part, Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière was not sure which side of the increasingly frenzied murmurs she wanted to agree with. On the one hand, her noble upbringing absolutely could not let her even consider the possibility that a magic-less savage might perhaps be a match for a mage in a duel. This line of thinking made her worry about the safety of her familiar and, more importantly, what his likely humiliating loss would reflect on her and her family's reputation. On the other hand, she desperately wanted to believe that her familiar could be as impressive in combat as he was physically. She wanted him to win, to prove that it wasn't impossible and that, by extension, she herself wasn't a 'Zero' to be written off and dismissed. And so, she was of two minds on a subject concerning her familiar and, once again, unable to decide between the two.

Concern or support? Concern or support?

...Concerned support?

"Familiar! No, that is… um… Rider… well…" Louise started and then hesitated. How to say this? Her feelings on the subject were still a disorderly muddle but she had to say something!

"Out with it, girl. What is it that you want to say?"

Her familiar didn't bother to turn his head to look at her sitting on his shoulder as they moved through the stone hallways of the school and towards the agreed location of the duel. Rider seemed to be in a good mood, completely unconcerned with both the upcoming duel and with the gaping stares he was getting from the students scurrying about the corridors. Louise was unable to decide whether she found his confidence reassuring or annoying.

On that subject, how did he manage to make her so confused every time? Elation and frustration, anger and pity, concern and annoyance and… Wait, she thought as she shook her head, getting sidetracked. Concerned support! Alright, first, how to let him know he shouldn't underestimate Guiche? How to tell him to prepare for something that his tribe might be unfamiliar with? How to...?

Aha!

"Guiche is not a bear!" Louise hissed urgently.

What?

"…What?"

Louise had the good graces to blush at her hastily spoken words as Rider stopped in his tracks to scrutinize her carefully. She tried again to speak but her words became a jumble upon her tongue and only half-formed babbling stuttered out of her mouth. The young girl blushed harder as the increasingly familiar wide grin started to spread across her familiar's face.

"You're worried!" Rider exclaimed in a rascally tone, like a child who had just caught another misbehaving.

"What? NO!" the blushing girl immediately denied. "How could I possibly be worried about you, you rude, arrogant, loud..." Suddenly, she trailed off, blinked and sighed, "Wait, I mean, yes... Yes, I'm worried."

"Oh?" The huge man intoned, sounding amused, "Why is that?"

Louise sighed again. She was silent in thought for a brief moment before she spoke up in a calm and even tone. Her face was set in serious expression.

"Familiar, put me down."

Rider blinked in momentary confusion at the sudden change in her demeanor and tone.

"This isn't because you have to go to-"

"JUST PUT ME DOWN!"

"Alright, alright," the enormous man mumbled apologetically as he carefully lowered her from her spot at his shoulder to the stone corridor. "I'll say! You little girls can be very confusing sometimes."

Louise chose to ignore the 'little' remark as she stood on the cold stone and looked up at her familiar. She had almost forgotten, getting used to sitting on his shoulder, but he really was HUGE. She had to crane her neck to be able to look him in the eye. Maybe that was the reason why he was always smiling. If everyone had to strain their necks to look up at her she was certain she would have a permanent grin on her face as well. Louise restrained a sigh and pushed her annoyance at having to look up at such a steep angle to the back of her mind. A true noble knows how to focus on what's important and right now she had important things that needed to be said.

"Familiar... Rider, you're undoubtedly very physically strong," she started speaking and stopped when Rider began grinning impudently. She briefly wished he wouldn't smile so damn much before she lowered her gaze and continued speaking, "but all those muscles aren't going to do you any good if you can't even reach Guiche. You shouldn't underestimate mages. You shouldn't underestimate him and-"

She stopped to look up at him and was surprised to find a somber expression on his face.

"Girl," Rider said, his voice as grave as his expression, "you're not saying you agree with those murmuring punks, are you?"

"It's not that!" Louise denied hotly. She opened her mouth to continue and the closed it without saying anything. She pursed her lips and then exhaled a breath before speaking up once more, "Well… maybe a little bit. It would be unheard of for someone without magic to win against a noble in a duel but…"

"But...?" he encouraged her softly, interest written on his face.

"I want you to win," she replied in a small voice, her eyes downcast, "I want you to win and to prove that-"

"That's enough then," Rider interrupted her quite suddenly, smiling once more. "The possibility of loss never existed from the start, but if my tiny Master asks me to win, then I shall put on a good show for her. That is my spirit as a Servant."

Louise didn't know how to reply to that, so when her familiar began to stride forward again, she merely followed quietly after him, lost in thought, as they slowly moved through the corridors towards the appointed place for the duel. His confidence was reassuring, but a small voiced in the back of her head nagged insistently at her.

He'd used those words again. She could hear the special inflection in his speech. They weren't just words. They were titles.

Master... Servant... The Holy Grail War.

Was it truly confidence or was it just the madness speaking?

Louise worried her lips and tried to ignore the voice as best she could as she silently followed behind the steps of her familiar.

Uncaring to the young girl's thoughts and doubts, all around her students continued to hurriedly traverse the halls spreading the news of the duel. Their animated chattering flew through the winding corridors and flights of stairs of the various school towers. There was, however, one section of the school that was, for obvious reasons, taboo. The faculty and staff offices were entirely avoided by the excited students. Despite this fact, however, even without the aid of the students, at the very top of these sections, the headmaster's office was also the stage of its own share of exciting news.

The office of Old Osmond was elegant without being ostentatious. Rich, royal blue carpets covered the floor while the walls were lined with overflowing bookcases and the occasional painting. The headmaster's ornate desk dominated the center of the room, with large windows behind it allowing light to stream inside. The desk of his aide and secretary was nearby, though perhaps the lady herself might have wished it to be located a bit further away. The room itself was often witness to the headmaster's harassment of his secretary. It was also witness to the beatings Ms. Longueville retaliated with. This day, one such scene was interrupted by the unexpected intrusion of a very bedraggled Jean Colbert.

"Old Osmond, we need to talk," the balding man said tersely. His robes were disheveled and his face was worn, with dark circles beneath his eyes. In his arms he carried several large and slightly dust covered tomes.

"Oh? What is it?" The headmaster, Old Osmond, was sitting calmly behind his paper laden desk, smoking a pipe, the smoke of which lazily circled his head before wafting upward and disappearing from sight.

The professor opened his mouth to speak, but closed it without saying anything. He seemed to consider what to say for a moment before he spoke up again, saying, "I have strange news, sir."

"Strange news?" the old man intoned as he raised a shaggy eyebrow and stroked his beard. "Do these strange news involve our esteemed patrons paying their tuition fees on time? Because otherwise I'm afraid I'm not interested in more of your noisy research."

Shaking his head ruefully at those words, Colbert stepped forward and placed one of the worn tomes on the mahogany desk. He paged through it quickly and arrived at a particular page. Old Osmond once again raised an eyebrow in curiosity and was about to speak up before he was interrupted by Colbert placing a loose page on the desk beside the open tome. The old man's eyes widened ever so slightly as he rapidly looked over the page and the book. Quickly, his eyes narrowed and his expression turned solemn. Old Osmond lowered his pipe and cleared his throat loudly.

"Miss Longueville, if you could excuse us please?"

The secretary was slightly startled by the suddenly serious tone in the usually joking old man, but she stood up from her desk without protest and silently left the room. The headmaster waited until the door had closed completely before he turned to face the younger man. The old man's eyes were glinting like a hawk's.

"Alright, Mister Colbert, you have my attention," the gray robed headmaster said in a conversational tone as he took a smoke from his pipe, "It's not every day that people barge into my office like this to discuss Brimiric and runic lore, so if you could please explain your sudden interest in the subject?"

Jean Colbert gave a slight sigh, more fatigued than annoyed, as he sat down at the chair in front of the headmaster's desk and began to describe the events of the previous day. How the third Vallière girl had failed her familiar summoning multiple times before she had finally managed to call something forth. How that something had actually been, in fact, a someone: a huge and muscular man who dressed in a strange manner that implied he might belong to one of the various savage tribes that prowled the wild, lawless mountains and forests between nations. How the man had confirmed to be from lands beyond even Rub'al Khali. And, finally, Jean Colbert explained how when the Vallière girl had completed the contract it had resulted in an unusual burning smell and a strange set of runes.

Red runes.

Old Osmond took the story in stride without interrupting other than to make a disbelieving snort here or there. He intently examined both the tome and the sketch of the runes, trying to put his thoughts in order. Red runes? Unheard of. Familiar runes were supposed to always be silver. Something tickled at the back of his memory, but try though he might he couldn't recall anything. Instead he focused on the characters themselves.

"So, when you went to look up the meaning to the runes you found this? That the runes correspond with Founder Brimir's familiar, the Gandálfr?" he asked in an even tone. The whole story sounded preposterous, but the reason why Colbert had been chosen to oversee the summoning ritual was because he had a good eye for rune memorization, a skill essential for writing the annual report on the second year student's familiar summoning. It was highly unlikely that the man could confuse the runes, but still, as headmaster, he had to ask.

Colbert nodded listlessly. He sighed again and seemed, for a moment, almost as old as the headmaster. He removed his glasses from his face and massaged his eyes before replying.

"Yes, that's right. The runes that appeared on the man's left hand are exactly the same as the runes of the Gandálfr. You can see that for yourself," Colbert sounded extremely exhausted as he spoke, "I didn't make a mistake writing down the runes if that's what you're suggesting, Headmaster."

Old Osmond nodded at the words and said, "Well? So, what do you make of all of this?"

"The man is the Gandálfr, obviously, but..." Colbert hesitated and stopped speaking. He stood up and began to pace around in front of the desk and perspiration began to dot his forehead as he resumed speaking. "I ransacked the library, Old Osmond. Spent all night looking from top to bottom. Finding the corresponding runes was actually the easy part! But no amount of searching could explain..."

"The color?" the elderly man interrupted him in mid-rant, "Hrm... Well, certainly, the runes are identical and the coloration is definitely odd, but for some random barbarian to actually be the Gandálfr just from having the same runes... Have you considered that it might simply be coincidence?"

Colbert stopped his nervous pacing and could only stare incredulously at the headmaster.

"What?"

Old Osmond just snorted at the tone and tucked the sketch page inside the book as he closed it and edged it away from himself and towards Colbert.

"Mister Colbert, it's been six thousand years," the older man said in a very reasonable voice, "Have you considered that the records might be inaccurate? Transcribing the same text over and over again across the centuries... Errors are bound to show up eventually. It could very well be that the runes," and here his voice gave a distasteful twist as he continued, "on the savages hand are simply an uncommon combination and not necessarily those of the legendary Gandálfr."

Colbert could only gape in amazement. The work of a frustrating sleepless night scurrying through dark, dusty libraries and it was simply being waved off as coincidence? Because the old man didn't want to contemplate the possibility of a 'savage' being the Gandálfr? Because the old man didn't want to consider possibilities outside of his current comfortable status?

"B-but...the color! What about the color?"

The ancient man drummed his bony fingers on the desk and looked contemplative for the briefest of moments before responding.

"I've heard say that the youngest Vallière girl is actually something of a lost case," the old man said in a voice that was somewhere between reassuring and dismissing, "One year of failures. Unheard of in the history of this institution. It's likely that the strange coloration of the runes is probably another sign of inadequacy on her part. The result of an improper 'Contract Servant' spell."

Before Colbert could stop gaping and formulate a response there was a knock on the door.

"What is it, Miss Longueville?" Old Osmond asked, completely dismissing the slack jawed man in front of him.

"Headmaster, it seems there is a large number of students congregating at Vestri Court to witness a duel," the secretary said as she cracked open the door just enough to poke her head into the room. "It's causing quite a commotion and disturbing classes. A few teachers have gone there to try and stop it, but their attempts to restore order are being hampered by the sheer number of students."

The elderly man grumbled a few choice words under his breath and threw his hands into the air in exasperation.

"Founder's name, there's really nothing worse than children with too much free time on their hands," he said as he tugged at his beard in frustration. "So, who's involved?"

"One of them is Guiche de Gramont."

"Ah, Gramont's idiot. Quite tragic that after two promising sons taking after their sensible mother, the third would decide to take after the father. Skirt-chasing must run in the blood, considering his father's an even worse womanizer. And his opponent is? Some girl's jealous boyfriend? A spurned former girlfriend?"

"...Well, it's not a student, sir," and here she sounded somewhat nervous. "I've been told it's Miss Vallière's familiar. The teachers are requesting you to use the 'Bell of Sleep' to calm down the students."

Old Osmond gave only the briefest glance to Professor Colbert before responding.

"That is absolutely preposterous. There's no need to use such an important artifact just to stop a fool from beating on another fool. Leave them alone to release some pent up energy. They'll grow bored of it soon enough."

Miss Longueville gave a curt nod and departed rapidly down the hallway leaving Colbert and Osmond alone once more. All traces of exhaustion had gone out of Jean Colbert and he could only glare at the much older man with a silent fury at having his work so thoroughly ignored and summarily dismissed.

"You've got a rather mean glare, Colbert," Old Osmond said non-chalantly as he waved his staff and a big mirror on the wall changed it's reflection to an image of the gathering of students. He peered at it and waved Colbert to come watch as well. "This is the perfect opportunity to test out your theory so stop glaring and come over here, will you? We might actually get some insight into the strange color of the runes as well. Come now; let's see if Vallière's savage really is more than just another brute."

The gathering of students was immense, consisting of almost the entire student body. Brown, dark purple and black capes were all present. The throng formed a wide circle around the solitary figures standing near the middle of it. Those at the back, near the outer edges of the circle, pushed relentlessly against those on the inside, trying to get a better look at the action, while those on the inside pushed back, unwilling to lose their spot. Their excited murmuring was a constant thrumming buzz that hung over the green fields of Vestri Court.

Standing alone near the middle of the circle, Guiche de Gramont's face held an arrogant sneer. Inside, however, he was actually beginning to feel somewhat anxious and nervous, though he would die before he admitted it to anyone. It hadn't taken long after issuing his ill-considered challenge that he started to have his own share of doubts about the impromptu duel. Quite certainly, a savage swordsman could never be any sort of challenge to a mage, but what if the oaf got lucky? With those bulging muscles of his, the hulking brute might actually harm his face, and what a tragedy that would be! Guiche had actually hoped that Louise the Zero would realize the hopelessness of her familiar's situation and force the tall brute to apologize, thereby avoiding a possible spectacle from staining the reputations of both their houses, but instead it seemed like the tiny hellion actually approved of the sordid affair! Was she crazy?

Said tiny hellion was standing beside her familiar and trying her hardest not to fidget nervously. Louise had not been expecting such a large crowd to show up and it was beginning to make her increasingly tense. Idly she wished she could feel and look quite as confident as Rider did. He looked completely unconcerned with the large crowd, standing tall and confident despite the teeming gathering. In fact, she thought, he seemed somehow more imposing than usual now that he had an audience. That strange sense of power that surrounded him felt practically tangible. How did he manage that? Before she could consider this further, Louise's thoughts were interrupted by someone shouting.

"I hope your hired thug gets killed, Vallière!" Kirche yelled hotly, eliciting chuckles from her mindless sycophants and various other members of the crowd. Louise stuck her tongue out at her. Tabitha stood near her friend and her attention seemed split between Rider and her book. She would study the tall man aloofly for brief moments and then, seemingly bored, would return to her reading, which she pursued with her usual detached interest.

Rider, for his part, was extremely pleased with the apparent poise displayed by his petite Master. Though she was of a volatile temper, she knew enough self control to be able project absolute confidence in herself when needed. He was also pleased by the fact that the frilly shirt punk had not run away. He grinned widely at the thought.

"Good job showing up, frilly shirt," he said by way of greeting. "I had you pegged as gutless after that stunt with the two girls, but it seems like there is hope for you after all."

Guiche sniffed disdainfully, his doubts and anxiety dispelled by Rider's barbed words. That no good brute was relying on insults now? Trying to be patronizing? Truly he was all bark and no bite. Guiche rested his rose on his chin and struck a dramatic pose with a theatrical sigh.

"Aah, Vallière, you really should keep your gorilla on a tighter leash," Guiche lamented dramatically, "His brutish features and senseless bellowing are fit to frighten a young maiden's heart."

"Like yourself?" Louise found herself asking without thinking. She raised her small hands to her lips but, too late, the words had already left. Why had she said that?

Guiche bristled as a rumbling chuckle started to go through the crowd, echoed pointedly by the barbarian's booming laughter. Both the master and the familiar were incorrigible, he decided. Why had he even thought of giving them the chance to surrender and walk away? They deserved the humiliation and the thrashing they were about to get!

"You'll regret that, Zero!" he called out, though his retort was mostly ignored by the laughing crowd.

It was only a brief moment before Rider got his laughter under control and he gave a hearty pat on Louise's back which very nearly toppled the tiny girl over. She let out a startled squawk that was part surprise and part pain, and then proceeded to glare up at him. He grinned in response before turning his attention to the fuming young man in front of them.

"Boy, the fact that you showed up at all is commendable. If you surrender and swear to fight by my side I promise I'll only beat some common sense into you and not, well, you know…" His rumbling voice trailed off and he made an exaggerated cutting gesture across his own neck. Louise sighed at her familiar's antics and restrained herself from kicking him in the shins.

Guiche merely answered with a snort and then said, "You've said enough, savage. Introduce yourself. It's time for your lesson."

The tall and muscular man shrugged his shoulders in a manner which said 'suit yourself' and then crossed his arms over his massive chest. Simply standing in such a fashion, he was imposing and, much to Louise's surprise, majestic. The crowd was once again abuzz with murmurs.

"I am the Rider, Alexander the Third of Macedon, The King of Conquerors," he boomed loudly, his tone a reflection of his total confidence. The entirety of the murmuring crowd fell silent at his proclamation. His simple introduction was enough to quiet the excited students.

Guiche, seeing that his opponent was winning the crowd, wasted no time in replying.

"Just as the mountains of savages are as molehills to the children of Brimir, so too are their kings no better than the lowest of rabble," the young man said with a sneer painted on his handsome features.

With an exaggerated and theatrical wave of his wand, three crimson petals loosened themselves from the rose and fell gently to the ground. A brilliant flash of light signaled their place of contact with the earth and, when the light cleared, where the petal had touched stood a feminine armored figure armed with a heavy looking staff.

"My runic name is 'The Bronze' and so, accordingly, my bronze 'Valkyries' shall be your opponents," the blond young man said in airy and confident tones. Surely, against three golems, the savage brute stood no chance at all, even with his enormous size and muscles. Just looking at the barbarian's confused and uncomprehending features made Guiche's confidence soar.

The splendor of his creations had surely addled the so-called "king's" scant wits!

And then the muscle-bound brute lost his mind and started laughing!

"That's it?" the red-maned man asked in between pangs of raucous laughter, clutching at his stomach and slapping his knee. "After all that posturing and bluster, that's it? HAHAHAHAHA!"

Guiche trembled in barely repressed fury. He was being mocked! Mocked by an idiotic savage with pretensions far above his station! And the crowd was eating it up! Chuckles and giggles were coursing through the gathered students again. They were laughing! At him! Unacceptable! Utterly unacceptable!

"I am Guiche de Gramont, he who is called 'The Bronze'! I am the third son of General Gramont!" he snarled between clenched teeth as he pointed and waved his rose wand dramatically to emphasize each word. "I will teach you manners, barbarian. Valkyries! Strike!"

As the final word left his lips, the Valkyries immediately shot forward like arrows loosened from a bow, their advance fast, implacable, and completely silent.

As silent, in fact, as Rider had suddenly become.

Without laughter, without words, and without wasted motion he easily sidestepped the headlong charge of the trio of bronze Valkyries as he pushed a startled Louise out of the way. His eyes had narrowed and were locked on the young man before him. The large man's dark reddish brown eyes were cold and his face was set, a somber stone mask. The sudden change in demeanor somehow made Louise feel very nervous and she rapidly crawled away from his side and towards the inner circle of the crowd, not even bothering to berate him for the shove. Rider paid her no mind. He was focused entirely on Guiche.

"Oh? The son of a general, are you?" his jovial voice was so at odds with his expression and perfectly audible even over the din of the metallic Valkyries clumsily crashing into each other. "A very poor general he must be, if his son cannot even think to flank his enemy when having superior numbers."

Guiche's face flushed an angry scarlet color and he spluttered wordlessly. Despite this, however, once the Valkyries regained their footing, they swiftly spread out around the huge man, one proceeding to stand in front of him and two behind him to each side. Rider had crossed his massive arms over his chest and was nodding appreciatively at the sight.

"Good, good. Not bad at all," he said admiringly, though his features were still stony, "But surely you can do better than that? Only three constructs? You must summon more, boy! Is that really all you can muster?"

"No! That is all you're worth!" Guiche corrected with a snarl and a theatrical flourish of his wand. The crowd cheered at his words and he grinned widely. This, he thought, is how it should be! The Valkyries, now positioned around their quarry, held their heavy looking staves at the ready and advanced steadily, barring any possible routes of escape. The huge savage, however, seemed entirely unimpressed.

"Punk, are you belittling my majestic worth?"

Without another word, Rider unsheathed the sword belted at his waist from its scabbard and the strange red runes on the back of his left hand exploded into a bright crimson glow. With a single sweeping movement, too fast for the eye to follow, its motion only heralded by the whistling sound of the blade cleaving through the air, he slashed at the bronze golems that had walked into his reach.

The clatter of bronze soldiers being forcibly disassembled, their pieces thudding to the ground below, echoed over the suddenly silent crowd, each of them frozen in shock and no small amount of fear.

"I don't think you understood, brat," Rider said in a gentle tone at odds with his crude words and terrible expression. "I wasn't asking you to summon more. I was ordering you to do so, so that I don't get bored."

Guiche was stunned speechless. His eyes were wide and unbelieving, and his rose wand suddenly slipped from his slack grip and fell to the ground. Gasps and murmurs were rapidly making their way through the unbelieving crowd. Louise gulped. Her throat suddenly felt very dry. She hadn't even seen her familiar move at all! Rider, his blade still in hand, runes glowing brightly, snorted disdainfully.

"Pick up your weapon, Son of General Gramont," he said in a rumbling voice as he pointed his sword towards the utterly shocked blond. "Our duel isn't over yet. Don't sully the beauty of the battlefield."

A fluke. It had to be a fluke, Guiche thought desperately as he picked up his discarded wand from the ground. Sweat was beading on his forehead and his grin was somewhat strained as he flourished his wand once more to summon a total of seven bronze golems. There is no way an uncivilized barbarian could possibly match a mage in combat. There is absolutely no way such a huge man could possibly move so fast. It had to be a fluke. It had to be!

Rider once more nodded appreciatively at the newly summoned bronze constructs. The gathered students gasped at the sight.

Guiche was actually going all out!

"Twice as many this time?" he said approvingly, "That's good, boy. Now, command your soldiers, Son of General Gramont. Show us what you can do."

Rider's confidence was absolute, unnerving Guiche greatly. The crowd murmured uneasily seeing that the barbarian, who should have by all rights been cowed by the sight of so many golems, was standing proudly without the slightest hint of fear. Louise gulped and her eyes grew wide as they jumped from her familiar to Guiche. Her familiar was a mountain of confidence while Guiche was beginning to look stressed. Sweat poured down the young man's forehead as five of his metallic soldiers flanked and closed in around their quarry, while the other two remained at his side to guard him.

An uneasy silence descended over the crowd for a moment as the Valkyries assumed ready positions but did not strike as Guiche warily regarded his opponent. The observing students crowded together nervously, but did not dare speak as they watched the two combatants. Louise tittered anxiously on the edge of the crowd unsure of what to do. Everything was happening so fast!

The scene lasted only for one eternal instant before being interrupted.

"My, it's too bad. You took too long and now I'm bored. I guess there really wasn't any hope for you after all. This is the end, boy."

The last syllable of his words was still hanging in the air when the muscular man leapt into action. A crimson whirlwind signaled by his billowing cape and the glowing runes at his hands was all that the startled gathering could see. The sound of his cape, crimson and gold, tearing through the air after him like a tongue of flame in the wind was all that they could hear. This was soon followed by the deafening sound of crumbling metal and a pained moan from Guiche.

A splash of scarlet stained the soil as someone screamed.

Guiche de Gramont tumbled to the ground, groaning. His eyes were wide and fearful. His legs had been slashed and blood dribbled forth from various wounds. His rose wand had been cut in half, the flower's petals scattered across the grass like so many crimson drops. When had that happened? When had it all gone wrong? This wasn't how it was supposed to go. The Zero's familiar wasn't supposed to be that fast, that strong. Barbarians weren't supposed to be able to stand up to mages, let alone injure them. But injured he was, and the pain drove him into panic. Terrified, he turned around and tried to crawl away. A nightmare, he decided, this had to be a nightmare. If he ran away long enough it would surely end, like every other nightmare had before. Sobbing pitifully, he crawled away.

"Don't crawl," the huge man said. He somehow seemed to loom even taller as he spoke, his voice arresting the panicking crowd and forcing them to remain in their spots. His face was an expressionless mask as he continued in a cold tone, so unlike the usual jovial tone that he favored that it made Louise shudder at hearing it. Impassively, he continued, "It's unsightly. You've got two legs. Use them."

Guiche froze and trembled helplessly, too stunned to do anything but to turn around and stare at the looming barbarian as blood slowly seeped from his many cuts. The nightmare wasn't ending. He was running away, so why wasn't it ending?

"Don't you understand what I'm telling you, boy?" Rider continued his voice cold and terrible, "I'm telling you to STAND UP!"

The young mage groaned piteously but, nevertheless, he struggled to his feet, eliciting gasps of surprise from the crowd. He was shaking all over and his handsome features were stuck in a frightful grimace. His elaborately frilled shirt was a mess of sweat and dirt while his pants were as bloody rags in tatters. The boy looked as if he had lost an argument with a manticore. He was thoroughly wretched.

"You're a fool, boy, to turn your back on an enemy that has drawn a sword on you," Rider lectured in a stern voice. "Don't you know that if you retreat in a panic like that you'll only get yourself cut down?"

"So… so… if I retreat, the sword will fall?" the young blond man asked in a stuttering, high pitched voice. His legs trembled and his various nicks and cuts oozed blood freely. He was pale, almost as white as his shirt had once been. Looking at him in this state, Louise felt a pang of guilt and pity.

"Yes. A disorderly retreat invites only death. Better to advance and face your enemy head on rather than baring your back to them."

"B-but, I am unarmed... Even if I advance, the sword will fall…" Guiche's voice was now resigned, bitter, and with a growing hint of anger. His legs were now rigid, and only his balled up fists and shoulders shook. The entire crowd of spectators, so scared only moments prior, were frozen in place with baited breath. No one else dared speak.

"Yes, underestimating an opponent you know nothing about is the gravest sin one can commit in war. Attacking blindly invites only death as well."

"So, I'm about to die..." the young man said and his voice was flat, filled with resignation. Tears began to well in the mage's eyes, his face becoming downcast. A low buzzing murmur began to cross the gathered students and some girls were hiccupping and crying.

"Yes, you are about to die. These are your final moments, Guiche, son of General Gramont. Consider wisely how you want to be remembered."

And Guiche considered. As the third son, his inheritance was nothing short of meager. His older brothers, so talented and brilliant, had already secured the family's estates and riches to their own names and the names of their own young sons. They had their own magnificent accomplishments and the fame to go with them. What did he have that could possibly compare? Nothing at all. As the youngest, the path had already been walked for him and he had sadly fallen short of those lofty expectations time and time again. Never talented enough, never smart enough, never good enough. How was he going to be remembered? Was he really nothing more than Gramont's idiot son? The laughing stock of the entire house? Weak, worthless and cowardly? He resented them all, he realized. He wanted to spit in their eyes and to prove them all wrong. But what did he have left now, beaten and bleeding, on the verge of the abyss?

Nothing but this moment and the memory it would leave behind.

Well, he thought as he looked at the faces frozen in trepidation of the people gathered before him, lets make it a memory worth holding on to.

With a shuddering breath, Guiche de Gramont steeled himself and spoke.

"Barbarian… if… if I'm about to die... the manner of my death will be of my own choosing!" Guiche snarled as tears streaked freely down his face, "You will strike me down, here and now, as I stand! Guiche de Gramont will die on his feet!"

No sooner had Guiche finished his declaration that the enormous man swung without warning and with blinding speed.

The sword fell, a silver arc, whistling shrilly as it cleaved through the air.

The sword fell and the crowd gasped and some, like Louise, shut their eyes.

The sword fell while Guiche flinched, having time to regret but not to escape.

The sword fell and the blade was stained by crimson.

"If you'd tried to run away again, that swing would've taken your head, boy."

The sword fell and while it broke the skin, it did not sever the head.

Guiche de Gramont fell flat on his rump, his legs giving out on him. He was still crying freely, but now amazement and surprise were mingled in with the terror of his expression. The crowd was stunned speechless, but soon cries and murmurs of relief began to course through the wide eyed young men and women.

"That you didn't dodge shows that you've got the guts to see your convictions through, boy," Rider said in a voice that was once again jovial as he sheathed his sword. "That's pretty courageous, but accepting death is easy. It just means you stop fighting. The harder choice is always to keep on fighting, regardless of whether you've lost your weapons. Even if the sword falls, so long as you're alive and fighting for your dream, you'll be able to go out with a smile on your face, rather than tears."

"W-why?" Guiche croaked in a hoarse voice. He had been ready. He had accepted his own end. Why had he been spared?

"Do you have a dream, brat? Something you want to accomplish more than anything else? Something you'd dedicate your life to and struggle to achieve, no matter how hopeless it might seem?"

Guiche was stunned silent again by the strange and unexpected question. He closed his gaping mouth and considered the savage's words. Did he have anything he'd gamble his life on? Just now, he had determined that he would die for his pride, but what would he live for? He stared at his trembling hands, but found that he had no answer to the question.

The young man shook his head and the muscular giant snorted at him.

"That's pathetic. Even a puny dream is better than no dream at all," Rider spat derisively. He plowed on, unheeding of the flinch his words caused in Guiche and some of those gathered in the crowd, "Punk, I spared you on a whim. You're only alive because I felt like it."

Guiche's eyes hardened at these words. Those steely and stoic eyes made an incongruous sight on his dirt smeared and tear streaked face. However, despite the wretchedness of his clothes, despite the blood and the dirt, he looked more mature than he ever had in his life.

"Good. Those are good eyes, boy," Rider said as he nodded appreciatively. "Let me know when you find an ambition worthy of those eyes. I can't wait to hear it."

The imposing man turned to walk away, his cape flourishing majestically behind him, but stopped. A sudden thought came to him and he turned around, a strange expression on his face. Louise suddenly felt very nervous. Had he changed his mind? Had the flight of fancy that had made him spare Guiche in the first place left him? Did the madness have its grip on him again? While she didn't particularly care for the young men and women who had scorned her and insulted her for a year of her life she didn't think she had the stomach to see anyone executed in cold blood before her eyes. In a small and hesitant voice, she spoke.

"Rider... what-"

And was ignored.

"One final thing, boy."

Before anyone could react, Rider unsheathed his sword once more and swung. Guiche screamed in pain, and a new scarlet arc stained the ground a final time.

Louise had flinched, closing her eyes, and when she opened them again, she saw.

Across the middle of his face, over the bridge of his nose, the young man had been slashed and blood poured freely from his new wound, mixing with the tracks his tears had left on his countenance. He hissed in pain and raised his hands to his face, but his eyes... his eyes remained stoic.

"So that you will remember what courage feels like."

The cut was not deep. It didn't have to be. The scar was indelibly marked upon his heart and upon his very soul now. The wound on his face was just a pale reflection of it. Even if someday it faded and could no longer be seen in the mirror, he would always recall that momentary blinding pain and the intense feelings that accompanied receiving it.

He would always remember the feelings of anger, feelings of shame, feelings of awe, and, most of all, growing feelings of admiration.

With a nod of satisfaction, the enormous man sheathed his blade and walked away. Louise hesitated for a moment. Should she check up on Guiche or follow her familiar? The decision was made for her as the young Gramont was mobbed by the majority of the crowd. She silently slipped away and started chase after the retreating back of her familiar. Rider had stopped when he saw her moving and waited for her to catch up. Turning his face towards her, he lifted her to his shoulder wordlessly. Walking away once more, he called over his shoulder one last time at the young man they were leaving behind.

"You know, kid, the name 'The Bronze' does not suit you," Rider said warmly as Louise saw the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. "Instead I think you should be called 'The Brave'."

They walked quietly for only a few steps, the rumbling murmur of the crowd behind them. There was so much Louise wanted to say, wanted to ask, but she had no idea where to begin. Again her familiar had left her a confused muddle. The irritating man was good at that. Still, she had to say something, anything, so she once again took a plunge and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Thank you," the tiny noble girl said honestly. She blinked. Thank you for what? The words flowed from her mouth, unbidden. "Thank you for winning and thank you for not killing Guiche. He might be stupid and a pervert, but that's no reason to kill him over a childish duel."

Whether or not Rider heard her words, he gave no sign. He kept walking back towards the castle proper at a moderate pace, apparently oblivious to her attempts at conversation. Louise, however, was not deterred. There still were things that she wanted to say, and now her mind was clearer.

"Rider," she said hesitantly, "Why didn't you kill him? A flight of fancy? I don't believe that…Why did you put on that... that... that humiliating spectacle?"

He stopped and turned to look at her and she found that once again she could not read his expression. That inscrutable mask made her words catch in her throat and she kept her silence.

"Does he look humiliated to you?"

What? Louise twisted on his shoulder and turned to see the spot where they had left Guiche and the crowd behind. She hadn't noticed but the rumbling murmurs had becoming cheering while she hadn't been paying attention. The mob of young men and women that had been watching the 'duel' had lifted the young Gramont on their arms and shoulders, without the aid of magic, and they were animatedly throwing him and catching, cheering wildly and smiling all the while.

"Victory without ruin, domination without disgrace. That is true conquest!" Rider said somberly, in a matter of fact tone, as if that explained everything.

Louise couldn't explain it, but for some reason those words made her tremble.

It came as no surprise to Louise that classes for the rest of the day were canceled or that what remained of the day had passed by in a blur. That she had been called upon to visit the headmaster's office first thing tomorrow to give her account of the day's occurrences did not come as any surprise to the young girl either. While the school's rules did not expressly forbid duels between nobles and familiars, she was, none the less, the master of a familiar who had incited a small riot. It was the duty of a noble to be responsible for their familiar's actions and this was a duty she would not shirk.

In fact, she rather relished it. Her familiar really was amazing! He had defeated a noble with ease and his actions, his mercy, would reflect positively on her own reputation. Though there was still a long way to go before she forever banished the loathsome title of 'Zero', the first step on this long road had been a decisive and impressive one. She fought hard to restrain her glee at this thought. If her familiar had proved that it wasn't impossible for a magicless person to match a noble with sheer skill, no matter how improbable, then surely it meant that it was only a matter of time before her own determination allowed her to finally achieve the mastery of magic that was her own by rights, no matter the history of failures that she carried upon her back.

A proper mage with a strong and deadly familiar to act as her shield!

Aaah, what a happy vision that was!

The joyful reverie which had her rolling in her bed in delight was interrupted by a loud slamming noise which neatly derailed her thoughts. It had come from her desk and, curiously, she lifted her gaze to see what had caused it.

Rider was once again sitting at her desk, attempting to read and, from the looks of it, failing miserably. He was, apparently, right on the verge of losing his patience and she felt a growing fear for the library's property. This fear was soon joined by a sense of shame. Last time he had attempted to read she had simply ignored him. It had been a petty and spiteful thing to do, something she might have expected from her classmates but not from herself.

This time, there was no hesitation.

"You like books, don't you?" she asked tentatively from her spot on the bed, "Do you want me to teach you?"

Rider reacted as if a man waking up from a nightmare. It was almost comical to see the tall man so startled. Collecting himself quickly, he turned to face Louise and blinked blearily in recognition. It seemed that for a moment he had been so concentrated on the books that he had forgotten all about her presence. He stared at her blankly for the briefest of moments and then, like he had before in the fields leading up to the school, he gave her that familiar wide grin that nearly split his face. She carefully padded over as he stood up from the chair, freeing up the spot at the desk for her and this time, this time, she gave him a small smile in return. The muscular man's grin grew wider somehow at the sight of it.

Silently turning to the task at hand, Louise went over the books that her familiar had picked out the previous night. They were, as she had thought, a random selection of tomes covering the most diverse and completely unrelated topics. Quite likely he had not been able to read the titles so he had just grabbed whichever cover had seemed interesting at the time while ignoring the runic script. Louise sighed slightly in exasperation and picked out something simple, a children's book detailing the adventures of a heroic young prince.

"See this character here? It's pronounced as 'A'," she began as he pointed out a rune and enunciated its pronunciation, "and this one here is 'B'." Quickly, she had spelled out the title to him: 'A Brave Young Prince'. Rider, looming over her from behind the chair, nodded in appreciation and gave her a wide grin in response. Louise worked swiftly and efficiently, teaching the alphabet and the different pronunciation rules of the diverse runes as she made her way through the story. The young noble girl noted idly to herself that, despite his brutish appearance and fearsome muscles, her familiar was as bright as his keen gaze seemed to indicate. She only had to explain things once before he grasped and understood the simple lesson. The thought that her familiar was both strong and smart somehow made her feel a growing measure of pride once more.

"It really is much easier with you explaining, Louise," her familiar said with a note of approval in his voice, "Almost as if a veil were lifted from my eyes. Quickly, turn the page! What does it say here?"

I take that back, she thought angrily, he's an idiot after all. Louise bristled at his words and reddened slightly in annoyance. Things had been going so well! Here she was trying to be nice and he had to ruin things by giving her orders? Using her first name so casually? The nerve of him!

"Don't presume to order me, familiar!" she snapped irritably, "Your master is being kind enough to teach you and you don't get to-" whatever else she was going to say was interrupted as a yawn somehow escaped her lips in mid diatribe.

Exhaustion had caught up to her.

She tried to ignore it and continue her spiel once more and only managed to yawn again as soon as she opened her mouth. Rider laughed at her, loudly and without restraint, as if it were the best joke he had ever been told.

"You talk big for a little girl past her bedtime, brat!" Rider said as he grinned irreverently at her. Louise fumed and glared at him but didn't speak up for fear of yawning one more time and worsening his thunderous laughter. Rider laughed harder anyway prompting Louise to throw the book at him. It sailed past his head to slam against the far wall causing his laughter to diminish ever so slightly. Still chuckling, her familiar gave her a gentle smile as he lumbered over to pick up the launched tome and said, "Now, now, it's not the book's fault that you're so small! You should get all the sleep you can, girl, or you'll never stop being a runt!"

Louise let out a yawning sigh and felt herself almost physically deflate. The words were crude, yes, but they held neither malice nor cruelty, two things she had become intimately familiar with in her first year of school. In fact, the tone had been kind and it had reminded her of how her father and big sister Cattleya would fret over her when she was younger, wondering if she was eating well, sleeping enough or whether she had skinned her knees after playing in the gardens. It was... nostalgic and not altogether unpleasant. Before she got a chance to muse on this strange discovery any further she found herself once again lifted by her familiar. Louise tried to shriek in displeasure at being manhandled but instead found herself yawning once more.

"Nnng... I'll punish... you tomorrow," she finally managed to say, her words a drawl in between yawns. The short girl was nodding off as her familiar carried her the short distance from the desk towards her bed. "Sleep now."

"As my Master orders," the red-headed man said in a mock serious tone as he gently placed her on her bed. The short girl quickly latched unto her pillow and felt herself rapidly begin to drift towards dreams. Between half lidded eyes, she watched Rider move away towards the desk, his massive back and shoulders dominating the entirety of her vision, and thought back to the amazing events of the day.

Only one day and all she could recall was frantic haze of activity, like some half remembered fever dream.

She'd been like a leaf caught in a gale wind.

Her familiar changed things, Louise realized as she felt herself sinking into her bed. She would never have expected such a show of courage from the frivolous playboy Guiche in his entire life, but here he had been goaded into growing a back-bone in a matter of minutes. A whim of her familiar had changed him. Tears and blood had changed him. Spiraling rapidly into unconsciousness, she wondered if her familiar would change her as well and if there would be any tears and blood in store for her in the future.

The thought excited and terrified her.

That night, the young noble girl's dreams were overwhelmed by the deafening roar of waves lapping against a foreign shore.

There was nothing else.

* * *

><p>The right spark can cause anything to burn.<p>

* * *

><p>Author's notes: Three weeks again. Disappointed with myself. I expected this to be out much faster. Oh well. As some of you might know, a full preview was out since last week in certain venues. Here's the final version with some further edits by alfheimwanderer and myself. Thanks to alfheimwanderer, DreamsRequiem, and Leopardbear for pre-reading. Thanks to alfheimwanderer and Leopardbear for pulling editing duties as well. I'm sorry that I make so many grammatical mistakes! Any atrocious grammar that remains is entirely my own. Thanks to the folks at SB for pointing out some simple ways to improve the Colbert and Osmond scene. Truth be told, that scene irritated me horribly while writing it. It was a necessary evil that I was none too enthusiastic to write.<p>

Is it my imagination or are my chapters getting longer without my noticing? So much for aiming for a five thousand words per chapter mark... At any rate, next chapter should feature Siesta and Derflinger and, if time allows, Henrietta. I'm aiming to finish introducing the main cast of ZnT before I take an axe to the setting and throw it to the flames.


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